Don't Let Him Grow Up To Be Like His Father
by tweek-like-chocolate
Summary: Mole and Gregory meet again at Camp, both are haunted by their past, both will come to terms with life... Looks like Kenny and Butters are along for the ride too. KenButters, MoleGregory... slight pain and abuse


**Don't Let Him Grow Up To Be Like His Father**

**Disclaimer:** Matt Stone has finally agreed to marry Trey Parker and therefore, in their moment of joy, has signed the characters of South Park over to me for the night to allow me to do mean and nasty things. The Saucy Devils! He said something about 'making my day.'

You don't want to ruin my day now do you?

You know as well as i do that i don't bloody own them!!!

**Warning:** Some nastiness because i like it so much, general bad spelling/punctuation (No Microsoft Word people!!), slashy-good-ness, bit of swearing, lots of OOC-ness and just a very badly written fic that i decided to write while sunbathing in Spain.

**Inspiration:** If you get the time, listen to Red Rover by Rosie Thomas... she's my inspiration for this. I was listening to it and I could practically see Gregorys parents fighting and arguing. And of course, the bitch that is Moles mum. Butters and Kenny have been thrown in so i can have some more abuse... god, i hate Butters parents.

_"Dont Move," the voice said. "Dont... it'll be easier for both of us if you dont struggle..."_

_But Gregory was struggling, great gasps of air from his tired lungs tried desperately to save his life. Blooded hands tried to fight of those probing lips, all efforts... wasted._

_"Dont." the voice was fading, just as Gregorys life was fading, "This wont hurt, you'll like it I promise."_

_One last push... nothing. It was easier to give in. Like he always did. Just give up... give up..._

Gregory jolted upright. His heart pounded against his chest, his hands flew out in the hopes of finding the light switch for the lamp that sat by his bed. Instead he found something warm, soft and very much like flesh.

"You're okay...zer is no-one 'ere to 'arm you."

Gregory couldn't recognize the boy next to him, but his hand had curled around the boys arm in instinct and their faces were so close together that he could make out soft, green flecks beneath his lashes.

"Sorry," Gregory murmured and pulled away, conscious now of his semi-clothed state. "I didn't mean to do that."

The green eyes laughed at him.

"Dont apologize. I 'ave strange men throw zemselves at me all the time." He bent down closer to peer into Gregorys pale face. "What iz wrong? 'Ome sick?"

Gregory laughed bitterly "The Opposite actually."

"Want some water?"

"No really, I feel fine. Do not go to any trouble for me."

"No trouble," he grinned. "Deus Minutes!"

Gregory gave a half hearted nod and leaned back against the bedpost, watching him make his way through the maze of other beds and their occupants.

_'Stupid memories.'_ Gregory thought to himself. He shut his eyes as the tears of weakness began to show. But images played out behind his closed lids like a series of old familiar reruns, so he opened his eyes to stare at the dirty floor of the army domitories.

_'Mother was right... I should if just become a lawyer.'_

After 3 weeks of being in the army camp he was fed up, tired and longing for the privacy of his own bedroom. The blankets here itched his delicate skin, and the other boys seemed so much stronger compared to Gregorys petite frame.

Gregory groaned in frustration. This was a stupid idea right from the start.

"'ere you go."

He jumped in shock, his back connecting with the bedpost in a sickening thud.

"Shh... you scare easily my British Friend."

Gregory scowled at the grinning boy who offered him the plastic cup.

"I'm not British. My Mother is. I was raised in America from the age of 4. I'm American. My accent is not British."

The brown haired boy smiled lazily. His green eyes wide and amused. With his spare hand he guided him into a more relaxed position.

"Drink then my American Friend. And keep your voize down. we are meant to be sleepin'".

For a moment, Gregory felt a twinge of something strange. There was something familiar about his smile. Gregory stared at him, his eyes travelled over his face, focussing only quickly on the small scar above his eye. The boys eyebrows began to raise as Gregorys scrutiny lasted longer then it should of.

"Iz zer something wrong?"

Gregory ignored the flush he could feel forming on his face. "Call it Deja Vu... But i know you from somewhere."

"Oui, i recognize you too."

"Whats your name then?"

The boy opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the morning bell sounded. Signalling the start of another day of military training.

"You are better now, no?" the boy said glancing down at Gregorys half full cup.

"Yes," Gregory said quietly. "Thank you." He downed the last of the water and looked up to see the other boys beginning to stir from their beds.

"We must get ready, see you at breakfast my friend. I am Ze Mole."

Gregory blinked in confusion. "What?" he said as he stood up.

"Zat is what zey call me. Ze mole. I like to dig.

Gregorys mind raced, trying to find a connection with the name and a place. He watched the retreating back of 'the mole' and frowned.

'Hmmm... the Mole... digging... small french boy... snow... South Park! THAT'S him.

Gregory had met the Mole in South Park. One of the many places his mother had moved him to through the years. His parents had never been able to settle down properly in America, and that hadn't stopped when Gregorys father ran of with another woman when he was 10. In the past few years he had lived in South Park, New York City, Portola Hills, Snowmass Village, Latting Hill, Palm Beach... he had even lived in Kansas for a year or two. His Mother always seemed to be looking for something. And whatever it was... she had yet to find. Gregorys memories of South Park were few. He had only lived there for six months when he was 8 and the details were sketchy. He could remember the white blanketed streets, and the small girl by the frozen lake who had befriended him. He remembered the french boy next door. They had played war together, spending days running around each others gardens, burying objects and hunting birds. The boy had taught him much. How ironic that they both ended up in Military Camp.

He sighed and began to pull on his uniform. He looked up to see Mole staring at him from across the room. The boys hair had finally been brushed and he stood at the end of his bed waiting for inspection. Gregory looked away, suddenly feeling so very foolish. Mole must think of him as such an idiot. What a great start to their reunion.

The Day seemed to past quicker then Gregory expected it to. Before long it was already over and the Gregory found himself taking the much needed shower. A mans voice sounded from behind him just as he shut of the water.

"Dont 'spose you have a s-spare towel?"

The young man stood a head shorter than Gregory, and Gregory could tell he would have been around the same age, his face had a mixture of shyness and little-boy-ishness he would never grow out off. His hair was a brighter blonde then Gregorys own, and in opposite to his curly locks, it lay dead straight against the boys head. His eyes were big and blue and gentle, lowering slowly as a brush appeared on his face.

"Someone stole mine ya see."

His eyes raised slowly, meeting his for a brief instant before glancing back at the floor.

"It happens alot... no-one will g-g-give me a new one."

Gregory pushed past him and made his way to his bedside table. He left a trail of water as he went, which reflected the artifical light and blinded the boy slightly. He grabbed the towel quickly from Gregorys hand and rushed back to the showers.

_'Strange Boy.' _Gregory thought to himself.

"Good Day?" The voice behind him caused him to spin round quickly. In which he hit, headfirst, the tall boy that stood directly behind him. Mole smelled like cigerette smoke and seawater. A smell that brought back memories of a little house on the coast. Back when Gregorys mom was happy and he was to small to understand what was happening within his family.

"I wish you wouldn't sneak up on me."

Gregory sat on down on the bed. "Day was ok, my back hurts however,"

Mole smiled in understanding. "Yes, i know how zat feels. We were pushed 'ard today no?"

"No more then usual if you ask me."

"No, today was sheet.

An uneasy silence fell over the two boys as they thought over something to say.

"So..." Gregory began. "Still playing at being missionary?

Moles laugh boomed across the dorm.

REVIEW! I need to know my mistakes and find out if it really is as crappy as my friend Billy said it was... Fanfiction really fucked up my layout... and somehow lost half the chapter. I'll edit it later.


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